


you're not to blame

by Kazutoes



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, I dont know how to tag things, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, he basically has a nightmare and blames himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazutoes/pseuds/Kazutoes
Summary: And I will be the one to build you up, i'll build you up...basically an introspective fic about Peter and his entire situation with Beck.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker
Kudos: 10





	you're not to blame

**Author's Note:**

> HI IM SORRY IF THIS IS BAD

It starts after his battle with Beck. At first, he thinks, it'll go away. Residual anxiety from fighting various villains, like how he was scared of heights for a week after fighting the Vulture, or afraid of locked rooms. They all say it's okay, that he has the right to be worried, after all he's been through.

He wakes up at night with the feeling of the gun pointed at his head, Beck's finger still on the trigger. The feeling of the train hitting him, multiple bones breaking under his skin, enough to make him breathless and weak. Watching MJ fall down the Eiffel Tower, unable to save her.

And worst of all, Tony's cracked iron-man suit, infested with the spider that had bitten him when he was fourteen, telling him all the ways he screwed up.

"Looks like you screwed the pooch, kiddo. What kind of Spider-Man are you if you can't even save people? You should've pulled off the gauntlet when you had the chance. Hell, even better, you should've snapped your fingers. You were the strongest out of all of us."

Each day he tried to reason with Tony, but the insults only got worse. Telling him he shouldn't be around if he can't save one single person, constantly belittling his relationship with MJ, saying he doesn't even deserve her.

It gets so bad that he starts to not sleep at night, going out on more riskier patrols. He almost wishes for muggers to have guns, just hoping that maybe one day he would be too slow to dodge a bullet to the head or heart.

It scares him to know what he's become, all because of Beck's betrayal. His words cut into him like a knife he can't escape, digging deeper until he finally bleeds out.

" _ Maybe if you were better, Tony would still be alive _ ."

He wakes up in the middle of the night to find Aunt May hovering over his bed, with tears in her eyes. The one woman who he's had for most of his life, one of the strongest women he knew (besides MJ) having literal tears in her eyes.

"Peter?" She asks, sitting down at the foot of his bed. She reaches out to touch his face, being made starkly aware of the tears falling from his eyes.

"A-Aunt May?" He responds, his voice scratchy and raw.

Like he had been screaming.

She gasps, throwing herself at Peter and gripping her with all of her strength. He couldn't help but be confused on why she was crying.

"What's…" He trails off, before the memories hit him. The patrol. The mugger, pointing at his head and screaming at him. How he had froze up, letting the man shoot his victim.

How he had ran home, almost 1 am, too exhausted to even have emotions as he fell asleep. How Tony had taunted him yet again, telling him in too many words about how he should kill himself.

Aunt May had saw all of that, his thrashing and screaming and cries of 'Please don't hurt her!', cutting off into whimpers and soft cries of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…'

His tears started to fall rapidly as the memories rushed through him, making him feel like the air was stolen from his lungs. He wraps his hands around Aunt May and buried his head into her shoulder, violent sobs wracking his body as he held onto her frame. 

He's reminded all over again of Beck's betrayal, and a wave of anxiety washes over him. Was this all real? Or was it just a simulation, like he had been put through before?

God, what was wrong with him?

"Is this real…?" He whispers to himself as they sat in his darkened room, moonlight hitting their shaking bodies. The nightmares, that woman's breath leaving her body as she lay there, bleeding out on the sidewalk.

"Yes, it is… I'm sorry, Pete, that you have to go through this," He hears May murmur, her fingers intertwined in his hair. "Such a sweet boy…"

His breath hitches as May's words wash through him, a pang of regret and guilt hitting him.

"May," He breathes out, pulling back to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that I was Spider-Man."

He doesn't know why he's saying it, but the words keep tumbling out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry I lied about the internship, I'm sorry I've been risking my life every single day without telling you, making you even more worried," His voice breaks, fresh tears welling up in his eyes once more.

"I'm sorry for being such a crappy son, who can't even tell what's real and what's not."

May's eyes widen as she hears Peter whisper those words, recoiling like she was slapped.

"Don't you ever say that," She says lowly, cradling his face in her hands. "If anything, I have the best son I could ever ask for."

Peter shakes his head, gripping her shoulders with a controlled strength.

"No, you don't…" He whispers, looking down. "A normal son would be sneaking out to parties, not to fight crime."

He always turns the thought over in his head, what if he had been normal? What if he wasn't cursed with the powers the spider had given him? Someone else would have to fight Beck, be put through their various personal demons.

Why him?

"Who says I have to have a normal son?" May asks, a soft smile growing on her face. "I wouldn't want you any different, Pete. Not many people can say their son has saved the world, and still can be humble about it."

"But maybe… maybe if I had been better," Peter murmurs, looking away from her gaze. He knows a lot of what Tony says are wrong, but the zombified version of him was correct on something's- what if he had been better? Would Tony still be alive? Get to take care of Morgan like he was supposed to?

"Honey," May sighs, closing her eyes and placing her forehead onto Peter's. "I don't know what happened up there, but all I know is that  _ none _ of that is your fault. 16 year old boys shouldn't have to fight for their lives- and others- that’s just not what they do.”

“But-“ Peter starts, pulling away from May. She quickly scooped Peter back into her arms, tangling her fingers into his hair.

“Don’t. You don’t need to blame yourself for other people’s actions.”

Peter is vividly reminded of how he had handed over EDITH, stifling a small gasp.

“EDITH- EDITH was my fault,” He says, closing his eyes against the assaulting memories. “I handed them over to Beck without a second thought, despite the fact that I only knew this guy for like, two days. And look how that turned out? I nearly killed half of Europe from my idiocy…”

“Tony was in the wrong for handing off such powerful devices, not you.” Aunt May soothed, running a hand through his hair. “None of it was your fault.”

“But…”

“No, Peter. You  _ have  _ to stop blaming yourself. None of it was, do you hear me? I can call MJ and Ned over here, if you need to hear it a few more times."

"N-No, no, please," He mumbles, his eyes slowly sliding shut. It felt like a weight was sliding off of his chest. He didn't allow himself to hear it, not before. But now…

"Go to sleep, Pete. I'll be here in the morning."

The weight was still there, no doubt. But the pain lessened, just a bit, just enough to allow him to sleep.

He slept without dreams that night. That isn't to say they went away for good, but it made the burden of them a little lighter to carry.


End file.
